Veronica Mars: Shoes on the Other Foot
by rainbowGraham
Summary: Heidi Holliday, supermodel and fiancée of billionaire John Harris-Claude, has lost a pair of shoes. A wedding gift, from former employer and fashion designer Barnabus Avalos, she'll pay Veronica anything to get them back. Easy money, it seems, until she discovers the trial of death following the shoes. There is more to this mystery than Miss Holliday lets on… (post V Mars movie)
1. Chapter One: A Girl

Silence filled the claustrophobic room with terror.

Blood sprays covered the couch, already sticky with spilt coffee. The white carpet was stained with vomit and tears, a puddle of urine and a foetid smell. A window pane was smashed, pieces of bloodied glass littered the hardwood floor, a trail of crumbs to follow. Leading to a downstairs toilet, whimpering in a corner with toilet paper wrapped around her arms, was the woman.

He knelt down, brushed the strands of hair from her face; and smiled. Even a bloody mess, she was still beautiful. He couldn't believe how lucky he was.

She never suspected a thing.


	2. Chapter Two: A Request

"Veronica, I'll be back in four months. What's four months to us, huh? Do I have to give you the epic speech again?" Logan jokes. I brush a strand of hair away, concentrate on his face, trying to remember every last detail. "I know, it's just, it feel's so long. I miss you." I say, hoping he can't see the tears welling through the bad internet connection. Seriously, you'd think they'd get better service, seeing as they are serving our country. "Look, I've got to go, but I'll call you soon, okay?" Logan asks.

"Okay. Bye. Love you" I say, and this time, I mean it. There have been too many times in the past where I was too afraid to, where I didn't know how to get the words out. Now that I can, I make sure to say it as much as possible, in case he forgets. "Love you too" he responds, then clicks off Skype. Wiping my eyes, I turn back to the security camera footage I was meant to be working on. Another cheating husband trying to get away. Pretty easy work, not the most fun, but it certainly pays the bills. I've needed that, especially since the accident that claimed Deputy Sack's life and my dad's ability to walk. It's been over a year, but money seems to be slipping through my fingers like sand.

Mac enters the office, two coffee's in her hands. She places mine on my desk, then goes to her own and opens her bag, pulling out a Danish pastry. I tilt my head, giving her a knowing look. "What? I worked out at the gym this morning, I deserve a treat!" she claims, chuckling. I drink in the dark, rich scent of coffee, warmth spreading through my body. It smells so good. I pause the video to take a sip, breathing it in first. Next thing I know I'm placing the coffee back down on the desk and I'm trying not to gag. "Veronica, you okay?" Mac asks. I know she means well, but the taste of coffee still lingers in my mouth, and the nausea that hit me this morning returns. I'm handed a glass of water and drink. After I regain my composure, I sit back up, breathing slowly. "Sorry if I scared you there, Mac. Just felt a bit sick. I think it's best you take my coffee before I barf" I say. Mac grabs the coffee and takes a swig. "Tastes normal to me" she says.

"Really? I though it had kind of a metallic taste to it" I respond.

"Must be just you" Mac says, then takes another sip. She sits back at her desk. "I'm going for a drink with Wallace this evening, going to meet that new girlfriend of his. Want to come?" she asks.

"Sound's like a good idea, where you going?"

"That new bar, Bianca's. They do some fancy sounding cocktails that I am just dying to try!" she almost squeals.

"Wow, someone needs a drink!" I laugh.

"Yes! I've not had a good night out since we saw Madison Sinclair attack that bouncer at Cube's!" Mac giggles. I smile, the fond memory of Madison Sinclair being pushed into the back of a police car playing out in my mind. That was just before Logan left. Suddenly I'm feeling sad again. Honestly, I don't know what's going on with me at the moment, I'm just so... emotional. Damn it. I go to the bathroom and stare at myself in the mirror. There are slight bags under my eyes, my hair's a messy ponytail. Maybe a drink will do me good.

After peeing again, I grab some salad from the fridge and eat at the desk in my dad's old office. The security camera footage is useless, with no sign of the cheating husband or any of his possible mistress's. Just as I'm about to give up, I hear a knock at my door. "Uh, Veronica, there's somewhere here to see you." Mac says as she pops her head round. "Client?" I ask. She shakes her head.

"Well, not yet" she replies. I tell her to send the possible client in, then ask her to have a look herself at the footage. Maybe a fresh pair of eyes will be good.

"Veronica Mars?" A seductive voice asks me, as I look into the chocolate brown eyes of a woman. Long legs showing in a fashionable black dress, sun hat shielding her olive skin and chocolate brown, wavy hair. Something about the way she walks suggests an aura of sophistication, of wealth. She is young, mid twenties, with a curvaceous and well maintained body. Her face, though, is ravishing with natural beauty. The woman bats her long, black eye lashes and sits down. "Are you Veronica Mars?" she asks again.

"Uh, yes, I am, and... uh, what can I do for you?" I reply. The woman leans back, looks me up and down, and smiles.

"I'm sure, as a woman, you will understand how serious the matter is when I tell my shoes have been stolen!" she says. I peer down at her feet for a moment, just to check, then look back up at her. "Your... shoes?" I ask. Truthfully, I don't know too much about shoes.

"Not just any shoes, but one of a kind, gold lamé, topaz encrusted shoes. They are the most valuable possession I own, and they are missing." The woman says with some anger. She sits back in her chair. "Okay, well, what else can you tell me about these shoes?" I ask.

"Well, they were a wedding gift from Barnabus Avalos, the fashion designer. I modelled for him quite a bit. They're made especially for me, and I can't have Barnabus knowing their gone."

"Okay, Miss...?"

"Holliday. Heidi Holliday." She says. The name rings a bell, though I can't quite place her. She gives me a strange look, then sighs. "My fiancée is John Harris-Claude, the entrepreneur." She responds to my confusion. Suddenly it all kicks in to place, the younger, supermodel girlfriend, the older, widowed billionaire. Made the papers a couple of times. "John is away in the Bahamas for work. I'd rather he didn't know." She states.

"I hope you don't mind me asking, Miss Holliday, but why come here? If they're that important, why not go to the cops?" I inquire. She simply shrugs.

"The last time I went to the police about anything, I was harassed by the paparazzi for two weeks afterwards. With the wedding and everything coming up, I'd much prefer if this was kept on the down low" Miss Holliday tells me. I can understand, though something niggles me in the back of my mind. I ignore it for now, as it's probably my hormones acting up, as they have been for the past couple of days. I make a mental note to book an appointment with the doctor, as some part of me knows something is up. "Look, Ms Mars," she says, taking me away from my thoughts. I concentrate on her face. "I'm willing to pay a lot of money to find these shoes, and I need to find them before the wedding. So, if, you're willing to help me, please contact me on this number" she hands me a business card, checks her watch, then heads for the door. "Ms Mars, I have to take a meeting now, but if you could get back to me by tonight, that would be fantastic. Ciao!" she exclaims, then leaves the office. A minute later, Mac appears in the doorway.

"So..."

"So, it looks like we have a case to solve" I say.


	3. Chapter Three: A Smile

"You little WEASEL! Did you really think that was going to work" he sneered at the man, spitting on the floor.

The spit landed in a puddle of dirty water by the side of the chair. The single light bulb hanging from the ceiling flickered again, and the scent of urine and asbestos hung in the air. The smell had become familiar to the man, much like the overcoming sensation of death. It was only a matter of time.

"Here. Peanut butter sandwiches. Aren't they your favourite?" he asked with delicious malice. From the shadows of the dark, he caught a glimpse of a Cheshire cat smile. The man shuddered as a pair of deep green snake eyes came into view.

He knew there was no escaping those eyes.


	4. Chapter Four: A Test

"Hi, is this Miss Holliday? This is Veronica Mars, leaving a message, just to confirm that I will take on your case. If you could fax me over the details soon, and we'll discuss payment options tomorrow, say 3pm? Thanks, bye" The phone clicked off, and I placed it back in my jeans pocket.

Tonight, I was wearing an elegant silver camisole and blazer, with my favourite pair of red pumps. Not too glamorous, but enough that Wallace was happy. I checked my watch for what must have been the third time in about five minutes; and my dad noticed. "Relax Veronica, and have a good time. No need to worry." he said, smiling as he looked up from the TV screen.

"You'll remember to take your meds, okay? Don't worry, I won't be back too late. I'm taking you to the physio in the morning" I reminded him.

"Veronica, you don't have to put your life on hold because of me. I'll be fine!" he said again, though I didn't believe it. Despite Logan's invitation to move in with him and Dick, I had been staying at my dad's to help him in recovery. However, since the one year anniversary of my relationship with Logan had occurred, in which he gifted me with an expensive new camera and the promise that I was all his, my dad had been trying to persuade me to move out. Seemed he was finally accepting of me and Logan, which was great, but it did change one or two things.

The sound of a car pulling up outside alerted me, and soon enough there was a knock on the door. I wiped my sweaty palms on my jeans, then crossed to the door. Mac greeted me, wearing a tight fitting navy blue dress. She beamed, excited that I had finally decided to come out with her for a drink, in what must have been the first time since Logan had left. Her face suddenly dropped. "Veronica, are you okay? Your face is all pale and sweaty." she asked in concern, and I turned to the mirror hanging in the hallway. Mac was right, my face was ashen with beads of sweat across my forehead and bags under my eyes. Nausea suddenly hit me. "It's fine, I'm just tired" I said, shaking my head. I reached for my purse and keys, when my stomach started rolling. "Hang on a sec" I smiled weakly, before making a dash for the bathroom.

Chunks of vegetables and bile landed in the toilet bowl as I sat, head in hand; heaving up. Mac appeared at my side, holding my hair up. "Started drinking without me?" she laughed weakly. I shook my head, and wiped my mouth.

"My dad-" I started.

"Don't worry, he was pretty tuned into the TV." Mac said, easing me. I didn't want him seeing me in this state.

"I just don't know what's going on with me. I'm so tired all the time, which is normal, has been since dad's incident, but I keep feeling sick and hungry and..." I felt tears pooling at the corner of my eyes, and quickly wiped them away.

"Veronica... when was the last time you had your period?" Mac asked.

"Oh, its been a bit on and off lately, the doctor said the stress, what with dad and everything, can do that to you. Why, I mean its..." Then it hit me, the thing that had been niggling at the back of my mind, that I had refused to acknowledge because it was impossible, it was unreal, it... it just couldn't be. "No, don't be ridiculous Mac, me and Logan are careful, and I think I would have guessed before now!"

"Well, contraception works about 99% of the time. You never know, besides, symptoms are different for everyone, you don't get them straight away. Really, you never know"

"You never know" I agreed. I stood up, washed my face and stared at the mirror. I could see Mac's worried expression duplicate my own, and sighed. Nothing I could do now. "I'll call the doctors in the morning, make an appointment. Come now, we can't go disappointing Wallace. Besides," I grin "I want to see if this Erica really is as 'fine' as Wallace describes". We exited the bathroom, where I kissed my dad goodbye and headed out the door.

* * *

I glance anxiously at my watch. Two more minutes. I'd told Mac I was fine, that I was going to the doctors that afternoon, as soon as Miss Holliday's appointment was up. Mac had wanted to check, of course. Said the home pregnancy test was an important step in the pregnancy.

One more minute.

Oh God. What was I going to do? I mean, Logan and...

Don't think about it. You might not even be pregnant.

I looked down, saw the plus sign.

Well that backfired.

I got up from the toilet, wiped my tear stained face with a splash of cold water, and headed to my office. "So?" Mac asked from her desk, as she sipped her latte. I looked at her for a second, saw the concern on her face, and relented. "So, I'm going to the see the doctor this afternoon" I replied. I didn't want 'Auntie Mac' to get her hopes up. As I opened the door to my office I was taken back by the smell of perfume. What the hell-

"Ms Mars, so glad to see you" Miss Holliday turned around to face me, shaking my hand and then sitting back down in the chair. I silently cursed Mac for not telling me she was already here. Early. "Miss Holliday, lovely to see you again. I got the files you sent over, thank you, and I'll have you know I've already got a source tracking them now as we speak. On to the matter of payment..."

"When do you think you'll have them? The shoes? It's just, I really do need them" Miss Holliday smiled at me, sparkly white teeth in a slightly menacing grin. Wow, this woman really loves her shoes. "Honestly, Miss Holliday-"

"Oh please, call me Heidi" she said.

"Heidi, I'm sorry, but until my source finds any information, I can't really say. I wish I could give you an estimate, but I usually track down cheating spouses, not shoes. If you need any help for the future though..."

"...I'll know where to find you. Thank you, Ms Mars, or Veronica, if you don't mind. But they are very precious to me." Heidi said. She smiled again, but I could tell she was annoyed from the look in her eyes. Guess she was the kind of girl used to getting her own way.

"Now, about that payment..."


	5. Chapter Five: A Voice

The crack of a broken bone whistled through the still air.

The click of her heels alerted the man to her arrival. She was worse than him, she who spoke in his lover's voice. Mind games, the man knew. Sick, twisted mind games. Through the shadowy fog he saw a pair of red high heels on shapely legs.

"If you tell me the code then I promise, this will all be over soon" she said. The man shook his head, laughed. That earned him another punch to the face. The man spat out a tooth.

"Listen here, little man. We will get that code. One way or another." She said, through gritted teeth. The man shook his head again, waited for the oncoming assault. "No, I think he's had enough of that. Let him stew for a while" she said aloud.

They left the man to his madness.


	6. Chapter Six: A Lead

Mac gave me another sideways glance as I chopped onions. My dad, oblivious to the looks, wheeled over to the kitchen and attempted to steal a carrot slice. I slapped his hand away, and he made his way to the bathroom. Knowing he would take a couple of minutes, Mac started whispering. "What's going on Veronica? What did the doctor say?"

"I had a couple of tests and..."

"...what? Please, Veronica-"

"You were right. Mac." I told her. I feel the tears threatening to spill over. Mac stared at me, speechless.

"Wow. Wow. That, uh, congratulations, I guess? So, what are you going to do?" she asks, a small smile playing on her lips.

"I'm gonna work the shoe case"

"Veronica-"

"What?"

"You can't just pretend this isn't happening!" Mac exclaimed.

"Will you keep your voice down? I don't want my dad finding out." I say, and the tears fall. Mac puts her arms around me.

"Oh Veronica, there's no need to cry, having a baby is a wonderful thing-" she says, sweeping me up in a full blown hug. I cry a little more on her shoulder.

"It's the onions, those damn onions!" I get out between deep breaths. I put the knife in my hands down, and wash my hands at the sink. I can feel my body shaking as I try to control myself. "I can't be a mother, can I? I mean, with Aaron Echolls and Lianne Mars as role models what does this kid have to look forward to?" I blurt out. My shaking worsens. "Veronica, you seem to be forgetting that this baby will have Keith Mars as a grandfather. There's no one better." Mac says, which comforts me a little. I imagine the look on my dad's face when I tell me him. He'd be so happy. "You've got a good job which will teach your kid right from wrong, you've got Logan, who'll treat you both right. Its all going to be fine!" she says again, and I know that Mac's right. I break away from the embrace, and wipe my face.

"Veronica?" My dad asks, concerned. He's in the doorway, and I don't believe he's heard anything.

"It's okay dad, just those damn onions" I laugh, and Mac beams.

* * *

Heidi is sitting in my office when I walk in with lunch today. She gives me a slight smile, then looks at her watch. "Veronica"

"Heidi" I say, the now informal greeting unsettling me. Something about her is not right. She isn't telling me everything.

"I brought you the information you wanted. Maria, Dorita, Carlos, they're all here. I hope this helps" she said, a secret smile on her face. She bids me goodbye and leaves me to my salad. "Veronica, you can't have a salad by itself! You're eating for two now!" Mac exclaims. I sigh, putting my head in my hands.

"Mac, if I need your input, I will ask for it. I'm fine, I'm just not hungry. So, do you have anything for me?" I tell her, hoping she'll stop bugging me. This morning, she came in with a pamphlet about 'Mommy and Me' classes. I couldn't think about it, not now, with the case.

"I have a name. Donald Wascoe."

"Donald Wascoe? Is that supposed to mean something?" I ask.

"Stoner Donny?" Mac raises an eyebrow. Suddenly it clicks into place.

"That kid who took 'shrooms in English and thought he was having conversations with William Shakespeare? What's he got to do with it?" I ask. Stoner Donny, from what I can remember, was an annoying blonde haired kid who always wore black Ray Bans, as if he was in some sort of Tarantino film. Skinny, pale, but smart, he hung around with Corny till he got caught on top of one of the classroom cabinet's, dressed as a ninja. It was one of the highlights of that particular semester.

"Well, as you know, Donny got kicked out of school after the ninja incident. Parents dropped him off at military school, he got cleaned up, became a stable member of society" Mac said, scratching her head. "That was until two years ago, when he was dishonourably discharged from the armed forces for 'psychological reasons'. No trace of him since, except some storage warehouse in Nevada he owns." Mac finished.

"So, what does not-so-stoned Donny have to do with some missing shoes? I inquired.

"Well, he got caught breaking and entering into Mr Harris-Claude's house last year, during a garden party. Guest found him shoving shrimp down his pants. Wasn't charged, Mr Harris-Claude didn't feel the need to." Mac sighed with annoyance. I knew what she was thinking.

"So you don't have an address?"

"Except for the warehouse, nothing. He was listed as working at the Lobster Shack, but apparently hasn't turned up for a while. It's a start"

"It certainly is. Mac, can you find an up to date picture of Donny? Just in case"

"So when are you telling Logan?" Mac asked abruptly.

"Mac, we are not talking about this now. I want to find these shoes, get paid, and then tell Logan." I replied. I wasn't ready to tell Logan, truthfully, because it meant that it was real. It meant there was no going back. "He's the father, Veronica. He has as much a right to know as you do." Mac scolded me. I knew she was right. But I really wanted to focus on these shoes. According to Heidi, they'd gone missing a week ago, when the house had its big clean. She thought she'd seen them in the trash, but they'd disappeared by the time she got down there. Heidi was convinced that the house staff had hidden it there until they left, after which they took it with them. It reminded me of another case, a thousand life times ago, when Weevil's money went missing from a poker game and Sean Friedrich's had hidden it in an old bottle.

"There's not a lot of security at the house, anyone could have got in. Donny, the three house staff. Have you set up any alerts for local pawn shops? Its been a week, they would have sold them on by now. Someone must have seen those shoes" I tell Mac. She rushes to her computer as I grab my bag and leave, in search of Donald 'Donny' Wascoe.

* * *

 **Hi there, just wanted to talk about the reviews, in which some have mentioned confusion at the shorter chapters.**

 **Those are taken from the point of view of the man being held hostage, the idea is that he is drifting in and out of conciousness,**

 **and so only snapshots of what is happening is being captured. I promise you, it's related to Veronica, but I don't want to give away too many clues just yet. Please be** **patient, I'm getting there!**

 **On a lighter note, thank you for all the reviews, follows and views! Its amazing!**

 **Thank you! G**


	7. Chapter Seven: A Memory

Hot breath on my neck, hairs standing straight. Dim light.

Shadows moving in the corner of my eye.  
I am the man. I am nothing.

Footsteps, far away, but getting nearer. A shining light, the morning star, coming to save me. The smell of baby powder, from a long forgotten memory, comes to me.

The whimpering of a small child, a gentle voice.

"Whose's a good girl, Alice? Whose a good girl?"

We must not look goblin men, we must not buy their fruits.

Those snake eyes, green and sinister, cloud me vision.

Who knows upon what soil they fed.

The feeling of rope around me neck, twisted in a noose.

Their hungry thirsty roots...


	8. Chapter Eight: A Death

The Lobster Shack was smaller than I imagined, and smelt a lot worse. I could feel the bile rising in my throat, told my self to hold it down. Vomiting showed a sign of weakness, and weakness meant no answers. I walked, stun gun in hand, to the entrance, where a acne-ridden teen stood, waiting to take orders. "What you want?" he asked in broken English.

"Do you know a Donald Wascoe? Works here, may not have turned up for a while?" I inquired. The boy, who identified as Ralph from his name tag, shook his head, though I could see a troubled look in his eyes. He knew exactly who I was talking about. "Listen kid, if you know anything-" I started before noticing the knife in his hand. He must have grabbed it from the cutting board inside. I raised my stun gun. "Put the knife down kid" I said in a level voice. I did not want to startle him. It wasn't just my life in danger any more. It was the baby's. "Stop asking questions!" Ralph yelled, visibly shaking. He didn't have it in him.

The sound of a motorcycle caught my attention as Weevil pulled in to The Lobster Shack. "Why, if it isn't my old pal, Veronica Mars" he said.

"Weevil" I respond, taking in his leather jacket and the stench of motorcycle oil. Since he was shot by Celeste Kane, things have been hard for Weevil, forcing him to rejoin the PCHer's in an attempt to control the corruption of Neptune and provide safety for his family. As far as I've heard, it hasn't worked.

"Cleaning up the criminal element I see" he says, eyeing my stun gun pointed at Ralph. I give him a sarcastic smile.

"Just doing the corrupt sheriff's department's job, as per usual"

"You really think you can change things around here?" Weevil asks, unconvinced.

"Well, someone has to. Besides, my video of big bad Sheriff Lamb sure got things rolling last time." I laughed. I still couldn't believe Lamb had fallen for the hat-cam. Now that's what you call a bumbling sheriff.

"So, what's going on here, Ralphy boy?" Weevil asks menacingly. The kid's so scared he nearly pee's himself.

"I can't say, I can't say! He'll kill me!" he screams, worried. Now I was scared. Stolen shoes had somehow lead me to an apparently dangerous criminal. I decided to put the stun gun down, and crossed to Ralph, in concern. "Ralph, what's going on? What's Donny's doing?"

"I can't say anything, they'll kill me!" he pleaded.

They?

"What do you mean 'they' Ralph? Who is Donny working with?" I asked, infuriated. Ralph wouldn't talk, and he knew something. Something important. He was working himself up, pacing back and forth, breathing hard. Weevil was giving him the stink eye, standing protectively behind me. For a second, Ralph looked up, meeting Weevil's glare.

Ralph promptly fainted.

* * *

It was 8pm that evening. I'd tracked down Ralph's, who turned out to be Ralph Maccio, address. He lived at home with his mother Barbara in a single storey house on the same estate where Weevil used to live. I parked the car under a flickering street light, and was suddenly aware of the silence. I could faintly hear music pumping through the night air, I could see kid's walking down the street; hear them muttering in Spanish. But the rest of the street was silent.

I exited the car and walked up to the house. The front yard was littered with coke cans and cigarette butts, and a rusty tricycle. Ralph's childhood. I knocked on the door, saw the light was on in the house, heard the buzz of the TV. No one came to the door. I knocked again.

A heavily overweight woman with greasy brown hair appeared at the door, cigarette in the corner of her mouth and beer can in her hand. She gave me a look down with a bored expression. "What do you want?" she asked in a gruff voice, chugging back her beer. I almost puked.

"Hi, I'm Veronica, I'm a friend of your son's, I was wondering if I could talk to him? I think he left something at my house the other day" I responded.

The woman eyed me suspiciously, then shrugged; opening the door for me to step in.

I was hit with the stench of old food and smoke, and the generally unkempt appearance of the place. I struggled not to hold my hand over my nose, though I knew I'd be sick the moment I left the building. Barbara Maccio sat down on the sofa, tossed her beer can onto the dirty floor, and picked up another. "He's in his bedroom" she snarled. I clung my bag to my stomach, already in defence, as I picked my way across the litter strewn floor to the room Barbara Maccio had pointed to.

Ralph's body hung from a pipe running across the length of the ceiling. The rope still swayed in the light breeze coming from the open window. His CD player continued to blast out The Black Eyed Peas. My stomach rolled.

I looked around for a pair of scissors, finally finding some under a pile of homework. Tossing my bag onto his bed, I crossed to Ralph, tilting his head, feeling for a pulse. Nothing. He was stone cold, his lips turning blue. Still, I couldn't stop. I was a parent now, wouldn't I do the same? I tried cutting the rope, swearing loudly as I failed. I could hear Barbara shuffling off the couch and coming to the door. I didn't want her to see her son like this. I moved to the door, closing it in the nick of time. "What's going on?" Barbara asked, annoyed.

"Mrs Maccio, I don't think you should see this. Now, you need to call 911-" I started, but Barbara pushed me away, concern on her face. A hefty woman, she shoved me out of the way and opened the door. "RALPH!" Barbara Maccio screeched, tearing across the bedroom and clambering at the rope. The woman started shaking, crying, as she desperately tried to get her son down. I dialled on my phone, crossing to Barbara to comfort her. I noticed the unmistakable smell of urine, and noticed the wet patch on Ralph's trousers. That settled it, then. He had killed himself.

I asked for the ambulance, despite knowing it was too late. I asked for the sheriff's department and rattled off the house address. Then I noticed something. 'I didn't say nothing!' read a note taped to the wall.

It was all becoming clear to me now. This was about more than a pair of shoes.


	9. Chapter Nine: A Drop

We must not look goblin men, we must not buy their fruits.

"You're right, he's insane! How did you know that would work?"

Who knows upon what soil they fed.

"This isn't my first rodeo, baby. I know how a man works"

Their hungry thirsty roots.

The man smiled, delirious. She who spoke in his lovers voice was caressing his hair. The other man's green, snake eyes peered deep, into his soul. He no longer hoped to escape.

"Here," she said seductively. "How long has it been since you last drank something?" she asked.

"Couple days?" he sputtered. His throat was so dry, like a desert. His tongue felt like sandpaper. He licked his lips, but no moisture came. He hadn't been able to cry for days.

"Aww, poor baby," she crooned sarcastically, throwing back her head to laugh. "Y'know, if you just told us what we wanted to know, this could all be over."

The man shook his head. He would not give in that easily.

A drop of water landed on his parched lips, then she left.


	10. Chapter Ten: A Warehouse

"I wish I could have been there for you Veronica." Logan said sadly, wiping his tired eyes. I felt bad waking him up, I knew he was working hard. But I couldn't erase Ralph Maccio's dead body from my mind. Or the note. "I wish you could be here now Lo, something's going on with this case. It's weird." I say. Logan looks at me empathetically. "I know V, I know. Be careful, you here me? Don't stress yourself out" Logan replies, before blowing a kiss to the computer screen and wishing me good night. I say goodbye, and watch as he shuts the connection. I close my eyes for a second, remember all the nights we've had together, his strong arms wrapped around my arms, his lips nuzzling my neck. I picture myself in four months, his arms around my swollen belly; protecting.

I open my eyes again and take a sip of tea. "So, did you tell him?" Mac asked nonchalantly, not looking up from the magazine she was reading. She was trying to be casual, but I could tell she had been listening to every word since she walked in a minute ago.

"Right, Logan... uh, it didn't really come up" I responded.

"What? Veronica what's wrong with you?" Mac yelled, jumping up from her seat, tossing her magazine to the side and slamming her hands on my desk.

What is wrong with me? I'd told myself that this time was different, we were adults, no lying, no jumping to conclusions, no accusing of murder. Yet here I was, unable to tell Logan I was pregnant. Was it a sign?

"You're afraid, aren't you? That telling Logan makes it real" Mac concluded, tilting her head to the side. I looked down at my feet, unwilling to admit it was true. I still wasn't sure I could be a mother, not after the situation with my own mother. Logan would be a great dad though. Mac gave me a look, then sighed. "So, what's going on with the case Veronica? Are you sure you want to continue with it? I mean, Logan was right about avoiding stress, especially now-"

"I knew you were eavesdropping! and yes, I am completely sure about continuing. I can't stop now, not with Ralph Maccio's death. He can't die for nothing" I said

"It was suicide Veronica, might not have anything to do with it-" Mac started.

"How can you say that Mac? It has everything to do with it. Weevil was at The Lobster Shack, ask him how bad the kid was. He said 'they' Mac. THEY!" I exclaimed with desperation.

"They?" Mac asked, puzzled.

"They! Donald Wascoe is working with someone. It has to be one of the house staff. Have you checked their alibi's?" I inquired, unsure. The house staff were the only lead I had. "Yeah, I've been meaning to tell you. They all have pretty solid alibi's. That's not the only thing though. When I called Dorita Gomez, she said Miss Holliday gave them all the day off." Mac replied.

"She did? Now why would she do that?" I asked. Something about Miss Holliday didn't quite ring true. The beautiful, glamorous women I'd met a couple of days ago now seemed shady, secretive. Whether it had anything to do with the missing shoes I didn't know, but it seemed too coincidental too be true. "I don't know, but Dorita Gomez said she's been behaving unusual recently." Mac answered. I knew she was thinking the same thing.

"Make an appointment to meet with Holly Holliday tomorrow morning. Right now, I need some sleep" I said, turning off the lamp by my desk. I grabbed my coat and bag and headed for the door. "I really need a good night's sleep, especially if I have limited number left." I said nervously. Mac nodded, picking up own jacket and bag and walking to her computer. She started reading something on the screen, so I waited at the door. Mac's head popped up from the screen, alarm on her face. "A charge just came up on Heidi Holliday's credit card. She just bought a first class plane ticket to Switzerland for tomorrow" Mac said.

"Now why would she be travelling to Switzerland on the eve of her big wedding?" I asked suspiciously. Something here wasn't right. Mac tilted her head to the side, thinking. A look of realisation came across her face as she came to the same conclusion I had.

"Money"

* * *

Beep. Beep.

Damn alarm.

Beep. Beep.

I slammed my hand down, and turned over to read the machine.

7:30am.

I'd decided not to act on the Heidi Holliday information straight away, knowing she wouldn't be leaving till the afternoon. I needed to sleep, not that it had been particularly good. I'd been plagued with dreams of Ralph Maccio's dead body, screaming and crying, insisting he hadn't told anyone. Each time he did this, the two shadow figures in my mind came more into view. One was Donald Wascoe but the other... I wasn't sure.

I checked my phone for messages, saw three missed phone calls and a text from Logan wishing me a good day, reminding me not to overwork. I replied with a kiss, then listened to my messages as I dressed. The first was from a client, confirming the money had been sent over and thanking me for my excellent work. As I crossed the mirror I couldn't help but turn to the side, stroke my belly. Hey baby. Thank's for letting me buy a whole new wardrobe later.

The second call was from my source who'd been looking for shoes. He said that was no record of the shoes entering any kind of pawn shops across the east coast, though he'd continue to look. The final message came from Mac, telling me she had some news, and would be coming over to explain everything. I exited my room and walked to the kitchen, slightly surprised to see Mac and my dad conversing over coffee. She'd only left the message 10 minutes ago. Damn that girl works fast.

"Pancakes?" My dad smiled, sliding a plate piled high with the delectable breakfast food. The pad of butter had already melted, and was now combating the maple syrup for ownership of my pancakes. I nibbled on the sliced strawberry on top, dipped in cream, before devouring the stack. Pregnancy sure made a girl hungry. "So, you had news?" I asked as I drunk some orange juice. Mac smiled gleefully.

"Donald Wascoe booked an appointment for the doctors today at 1pm."

"Busy, busy day ahead of us, I see." I laughed, finishing my breakfast. Mac, already with her bag and coat in hand, shuffled to the door.

"I was thinking we could go up to that storage warehouse of his, seeing as he'll be busy. If we go now, we should be able to make it in time. What do you think?" Mac asked, pleased with herself. How could I deny her this? "Sure, let's go" I said, smiling. I wished my dad goodbye, kissed his forehead, then headed out to Mac's car.

"Can we stop for MacDonald's at some point? Because I don't think I can drive all the way to Nevada without some nourishment" Mac giggled.

* * *

We'd finally entered Nevada, and Mac was still hungry. So was I, but that could have been the morning sickness that occurred about twenty minutes after we left the house. Mac was sitting in the back of the car, typing away furiously on her laptop. I was attempting to read the directions, drive and not throw up at the same time, which I think was a pretty big accomplishment. Mac's head suddenly popped up between the seats. "Hey, I think I found something. Remember Ralph Maccio's bank account, how every month $1000 were transferred from an undisclosed account? Well, I think I found out were the mystery money's coming from." Mac said.

"Where?" I asked impatiently. I suspected it had something to do with Donald Wascoe.

"Elysium Escorts" Mac said hesitantly, sitting back down as she scanned the computer screen. Confusion hit me as I turned the car down an old road.

"Elysium Escorts? The high class brothel for business men?" I asked. Mac sighed.

"Yeah. It doesn't say what he was doing there, but as sure as eggs is eggs, he was getting money from them." Mac replied. I slowed the car down as we reached the warehouse, thinking. Ralph couldn't have been any older than eighteen, surely he wasn't... "Hey, look!" Mac said, pointing to the ground. There were several sets of tyre tracks, all from what appeared to be the same make and model of care. Someone had been coming here recently. "Seems we've come to the right place" I said, getting out the car. I made a mental note to make a call to Elysium Escorts when we got back to Neptune.

A shuffling sound came from inside the warehouse. Mac looked at me scared. What would we find in the supposedly empty storage warehouse? I crossed to the door and quickly looked around, checking no one else was here; or even watching. Then I braced myself.

Mac watched in horror as I opened the door to the warehouse.


	11. Chapter Eleven: A Saviour

The light burned the man's eyes. Must be the morning star, come to take him.

A petite blonde woman peered into the dark room. She was not one of his captors. She was an angel, he was sure of it. A halo of light framed her sweet face. "Take me, angel" the man croaked. He was too tired to cry tears of relief. The pain would soon be over.

The angel rushed over to him and untied his ropes. "Mac!" she called to the open door. "Mac!"  
Another angel, this time with cropped brown hair, appeared, a shocked look on her face.

She felt the wall for a light switch, and suddenly the room was filled with a cold, white light. He must be entering Heaven.

"Hey, stay with me, stay with me" the blonde angel said as she freed him from the chair. He slumped to the floor.

"What's your name sir? I'm Veronica" the blonde angel said.

"My name... my name is John. John Harris-Claude"


	12. Chapter Twelve: A Walkthrough

"Wait, now I'm really confused" Mac sighed, as she sipped from her coffee and scanned my face. We'd been in the hospital two hours, waiting for news on John Harris-Claude. It had been a shock to actually find anything in the warehouse, let alone a dehydrated, starved, on-the-verge-of-death man. The fact that he was the billionaire fiancée of my client was more than enough to convince me that something was off.

"Right, lets go through it again," I said, just as confused as Mac. "Heidi Holliday comes to me, asking for help with her missing shoes. She tells us that her husband is away working. We investigate, find all the house staff have alibi's, then discover Donald Wascoe broke in to their home a year ago. We discover a young man who knows something, though he commits suicide before further questioning. Then, we go to Mr Wascoe's warehouse and find John Harris-Claude tied up and almost dead." I rattled through the events quicker than I thought, exhausted. "Where does that leave us?" asks Mac, still perplexed. I sighed.

"Well, either Heidi Holliday is really dumb, or she lied to us when we asked about her fiancée's whereabouts, that's what it tell's us."

"So, what now?" Mac inquired. I was starting to get tired of all the questions.

"Now, we talk to Mr Harris-Claude, if we can." I responded.

The doctor emerged from Mr Harris-Claude's room in the antiseptic white section of the hospital. Private facilities were pretty snazzy. "Can we speak with him now, Dr Billing?" I asked, using my signature head tilt; guaranteed to get your own way.

"I've contacted Miss Holliday, but she doesn't appear to be picking up?" Dr Billing said, annoyed. I decided to smooth things over, knowing full well that Heidi Holliday would be boarding a plane to Switzerland right about now. Unfortunately, with the Harris-Claude situation going on, we hadn't been able to stop her, and I didn't have those sort of contacts in Interpol; though I made a mental note to start doing so. "Dr Billing, my name is Veronica Mars, and I'm a private investigator working for Miss Holliday. I can assure, he is in safe hands with us." Dr Billing shrugged, unsure, checking Mr Harris-Claude's chart again. He slowly nodded. Almost giddy, we walked quickly to the door, but just before we entered, Dr Billing spoke "Be careful with him, okay? He's been through a lot the past seven days."

The room was painted a soft cream colour, with a periwinkle tiled floor and clean, mascarpone coloured blinds. With the tall china vases filled with bright, gleaming sunflowers and the flat screen TV, the place reeked of wealth. I sat down on the comfortable, leather blue chair nearest to the bed and watched John Harris-Claude being pumped with fluids.

He was an attractive man, mid forties, with sandy blonde hair only slightly greying at the temples. Despite being locked up in the dark for so long, I could see the light tanning of his skin, no doubt gained from the many years lounging at his poolside. He was muscular, lean, I'd guess about six foot. He didn't look so healthy now, though I knew it was only a matter of time before he got it all back on track.

He turned his head and opened his deep, forest green, eyes at me. I blinked back in alarm. His mouth opened as he tried to speak, though nothing came out. "Here," I said, pouring him a glass of ice cool water from the jug on his bedside. He accepted the drink gratefully, drinking slowly with both hands grasping the glass. "Thank...you" he stumbled out, before coughing and handing the water back. I placed it on the table.

"Mr Harris-Claude, I'm Veronica Mars, a private investigator. I'm sorry to have to ask you this, but, I need your help. Do you know what happened to you?" I asked. Mac took out a recorder and started rolling, then a notepad and a pencil, just in case. She sat expectantly, eyes on Mr Harris-Claude. He looked at her, then at me, then at the ceiling, as he started to speak. "I suppose I should start from the beginning, huh? Before the abduction, before the fight, before the engagement?" I nodded, though unsure. What else was he going to tell me?

"Let me tell you about the night I met Heidi"


	13. Chapter Thirteen: A Past

"We were at Romulus, this club in New York. She was there for some fashion show, I was enjoying a night out with my buddies, trying to chat up some girls. She walked into the room, all smoky eyes and unruly dark hair. She was wearing a gold dress, and she was beautiful. Yeah, I know Heidi's a model but there was just something about her... I couldn't stop thinking about her, couldn't keep my eyes off her. She caught me staring at the bar. I offered to buy her a drink, but some big, sweaty Mexican guy came up. Told me to go away, because I wasn't wanted there. I turned around, started to back off, but then I heard her. She had the most soothing voice. And she told him to leave her alone, said they were through. I turned back, asked if she and her friends would like to sit with us. She smiled, nodded, called over her friends. We bought them all drinks, we talked, we laughed. We exchanged numbers. I lost her number though, I hadn't saved the contact on my phone.

About a week later, I saw just as I was getting the taxi to the airport. Apparently, she'd been looking for me. Turned out, she'd lost my number too! Can you imagine? I asked if she would like to come away with me, and she agreed. Next thing you know, I was in love. I'd been in love before. My first wife, Sara, I loved; very dearly. We had a little girl, Alice, but... one day they were driving home from playgroup. Saw a deer in the road, swerved, ended up in a ditch. Alice was only two. Sara, she... she held on, for longer. I met her at the hospital, I couldn't bring myself to tell her Alice was gone. I think she knew though. Mothers have a way. Sara told me she loved me, that she wanted me to be happy. I didn't realise until I met Heidi what she truly meant. She wanted me to fall in love again, and to not feel guilty for doing so.

After six months, I knew she was the one for me. We had a party, for her birthday, I brought her cake. She loved cake, even being a model. She had vanilla and cherry, with butterscotch icing; her favourite. She closed her eyes when she blew out the candles, she always does. When she opened them I was down on one knee, ring box in my hands. The look on her face, its something I'll cherish forever. She said yes, of course. That was eight months ago." John Harris-Claude finished, though his story wasn't complete. We were just getting to the juicy bit.

He tried clearing his throat, started coughing again. I handed him the glass of ice water, watched him hold it with trembling hands. There were tears in his eyes. Poor man, I thought. Lost his wife and daughter. I try to put myself in his shoes, without Logan and the baby, and I'm surprised by the crippling pain I feel. An epic love taken away by the cruel hand of death. I prayed it didn't happen to me. I prayed that, whatever happened, John Harris-Claude's story would have a happy ending.

I noticed Mac then, eyes misty, trying to hide it from me. She pushed back her hair, checked over the notes she'd made, then looked back up. Mr Harris-Claude had drained the glass, and looked ready to continue. He handed the glass back to me, and I put it on the table, before reaching out and holding his hand. I don't know why, I just wanted him to know, he wasn't alone.

"I didn't notice it at first, not really. But then there were little things, things that only I knew, that were different. This was about two months ago. Honestly, I'm still not sure what was going on, just that something wasn't right. It was Heidi, and yet, it wasn't her, there was just... something different. I thought it might be pre wedding jitters, or something, I don't know.

Then I caught her having sex in our bed. With someone else. A boy. He couldn't have been much older than twenty, Mexican, nervous. Really enjoyed himself, that was, until he saw me in the doorway. Couldn't get out the room fast enough, that kid. Was stumbling out the house still with his pants down his ankles. I remember I was... angry. Upset. Betrayed. She was smiling, and she was trying to act as if nothing had happened. She just walked out the room.

Next day at work, a friend of mine called round, we had a catch up over coffee. He told me all about his new wife, how demanding she was, how he still loved her. I kept wanting to mention it, to get his reaction. I didn't know what to do. I mean, sure, she'd cheated on me. But I still loved Heidi. Couple days later, we talked, I wanted to know why. She didn't answer, just gave me this knowing look. I knew then it wasn't, couldn't be her. Not my Heidi." John Harris-Claude stopped, and I was still as unsure as ever. The kid he described was Ralph Maccio, I knew it. There was no other explanation for how he was invovled. I'd have Mac follow up at Elysium Escorts later, but for now, there was something I needed to know. "Mr Harris-Claude, what is so special about these shoes?" I asked, showing a picture Heidi Holliday had given me, something I'd forgotten about until this morning, when I stopped off at the office to get the file before Nevada. God, that seemed to be days ago. My stomach surprised me by rumbling, and I couldn't remember when I'd last eaten. As soon as this was over, I was heading to a diner and eating all I wanted. If I couldn't have hard liquor, I'd have food, and I had a feeling I would need it after this conversation.

"The shoes, I got mad. Heidi came home that day, asked if I had missed her. Missed her? I'd seen her this morning. Damn, she was acting strange. She didn't know what I was talking about, we got in an argument. I didn't mean to hit her, it's just... she acted as if she'd never cheated on me! She was only defending herself, Ms Mars," John Harris-Claude said, still protecting his betraying fiancée. Guess he really did still love her.

"She didn't mean to, but the shoes. A gift, from Barnabus Avalos. Fancy, bit too much for my taste, but she loved them. She'd brought a display case for them, said they were too beautiful to wear. She'd got the case the other day, had been about to put them away. The shoes, they were just sitting there, on the table. I was sipping coffee, though I think I spilled it. She grabbed them, the shoes, she hit me with them. There was blood... and... I... I blacked out. I think she hit me, once, twice. I hit her back, with my bare hands. We fought, it got messy. But I remember, the heel of the shoe coming down on my head and then... I woke up, and I was tied to a chair.

There was a man, couldn't see his face, just his green snake eyes. He beat me, lots. Then, there was a woman. She didn't hurt me, at least not physically. But when she spoke, she had that same soothing, seductive voice that Heidi had. She was playing with my mind! The rest of the time was a bit of a blur, not really knowing much. Until you came. You saved me." he said, smiling weakly. I took my hand away, brushed my hair behind my ears.

John Harris-Claude was a tired man. I sensed he had finished, his story been told. He rolled over, eyes drifting shut. Mac stopped the recorder, looked over her notes. I grabbed my bag, got up, and exited the room, Mac following closely behind. We said goodbye to Dr Billing, then headed out the doors.


	14. Chapter Fourteen: A Conformation

It was 5pm, and we were sitting in a diner. Mac was stuffing herself with a falafel burger, her second that day, whilst chugging back a Coke. I had a grilled vegetable and cheese burrito, though so far I'd only managed a nibble on the side salad. I sipped absent-mindedly from my glass of orange juice. I'd left the room with more questions than answers, more leads than solutions, and a whole lot more to worry about.

"So what about the shoes?" Mac asked between bites of burger, drawing my attention to her.

"Mac, those aren't just shoes any more. Those are evidence."

"Well, I don't how much more we can get on those shoes, but whilst we were waiting at the hospital I set up an interview with Karen Henridge, a.k.a Madame Sophie of Elysium Escorts."

"Where Ralph Maccio got his mystery money from. This should be interesting."

Mac finished chomping on her burger, and sipped quietly at her coke, eyeing me up and down. "You gonna eat that?" she asked, staring at me. I chewed a limp lettuce leaf, then pushed the plate over, as Mac pounced happily onto the grilled vegetables. "Mmmm. Sometimes, I really miss cheese" she babbled, scraping a heaping gloop of pepper jack off an onion.

"Sad story," Mac started, looking down at her plate. "Really makes you think about things, huh" Mac continued, eyeing me suspiciously.

"Yeah" I replied, though I wasn't really listening. I was picturing the copious amounts of waffle fries I was planning to consume once I'd given birth. A plate, piled high with fries, warm and glorious, with dips at either side. This was making me hungry, and I suddenly wished I hadn't given up on my burrito. "HELLO? Earth to Mars?" Mac yelled, waving her fork in front of my eyes. I turned to face her. "Did you not get the hints I was dropping? You need to tell Logan!"

"What?"

"Veronica, in this line of work, you never know what's gonna happen. You investigate a pair of missing shoes and next thing you know you're finding kidnapped billionaires! You need to tell Logan about the baby, or I will." She finished. I looked at the clock on the wall, saw ten minutes had pasted. Had I really been day dreaming that long? Whatever, it didn't matter. What mattered was that Mac was right. I'd known for a couple days now, it was only right to tell him. The question was, how to tell him. This isn't the kind of news you can just text someone.

We left the diner, thoughts of waffle fries and baby bonnets still in my mind. Mac offered to drive, I let her. We had one stop left on our way back home, and then I would prepare. I'd write a speech, just a quick one, then I'd tell him. I had to.

* * *

Elysium Escorts was fancier than I expected. The word that came to mind was luxurious. Tall building with glowing lights, coloured shiny black with gold framed doors. The lobby was spacious, with plush red velvet love seats scattered around, vases of pure white orchids, a red carpet scattered with rose petals, and crystal glass jar filled with Moroccan candies. As we stood at the front desk, waiting to be served -no, not like that- I noticed the smell of chocolate and vanilla drifting down from a hallway. Mac quirked an eyebrow at me, laughing. Suddenly, a tall Japanese woman, with a perfectly straight ebony hair, appeared at the desk. "Ladies?" she said in a French accent. "Uh, we're here for a meeting with Madame Sophie." Mac told her, hands fidgeting.

"She's expecting us" I added. The woman, whose name tag read Lena, looked down at the desk computer, her lacquered nails tapping on the keyboard a few times, then looked back at us and smiled. "Let me escort you" she said, leading us down a long hallway, where the smell of chocolate got stronger. We stopped at a silver door with 'Madame' labelled in the centre in beautiful red calligraphy, then were lead into the office of Madame Sophie.

She was a thin woman, with delicate wrists covered in diamond bracelets, which she gently placed on the centre of her mahogany desk. Her pale skin set off her alarmingly bright blue eyes, her lips puckered into an unpleasant smile, and her hair, which was a deep auburn, was pinned to the top of her head daringly. She looked startling, and not at all comfortable, in her blue Chanel suit. Madame Sophie looked old, and sad, like a disgraced escort I assumed she was. Her eyes, however, were alive and young, a hint at a once beautiful woman.

"Hi, Madame Sophie, I'm Veronica Mars, private investigator and this is my assistant, Mac, I believe you spoke on the phone." I said, holding my hand out for her to shake. She ignored my hand and gestured to the chairs in front of her desk. "Please, sit down." She replied. She dismissed Lena, waiting till the door was shut, then turned to face me. "What exactly is that you want, for I'm very busy and don't have much time dealing with the likes of...you" Madame Sophie spat out that last word, giving me a disgruntled look. I tried my best not to get annoyed.

"Madame Sophie, we have some questions to ask you about certain colleagues of yours, whether their off the books or not" I said, trying to engage her. At the mention of illegality, her head turned and focused on me. She leaned forward, clouding me with the smell of her perfume; and snarled. "This isn't a brothel, Ms Mars. This is an escort agency, where our girls choose to work in this industry. Only the best goes on in my establishment, I don't pick up every woman wandering the streets. A woman's got to have a certain class to her, and all of mine do. Maybe next time, do your research."

"I'll keep that in mind, through truth be told I'd rather not step foot in this place again, Madame Sophie."

"Elysium is legally okay, Ms Mars."

"It may be legally okay but isn't it, I don't know, morally wrong?"

"Nothing wrong with having sex, sweetheart, just that my girls get a little extra out of it too"

"And guys, huh? You do employ guys don't you, I mean, that's how Ralph Maccio got all that money" I prompted.

"Ahh Ralph. Sweet boy, I heard about his untimely demise. He had a lot of potential." She leaned back in her chair, hackles no longer raised.

"Yes, well, that potential got him killed."

"I thought it was suicide" Madame Sophie said, disgruntled. This annoyed me. I was sick and tired of everyone assuming that it had nothing to do with the case. They didn't understand, they hadn't seen him. I'd promised myself I wouldn't get angry with this foul woman, but it was too late. "Are you kidding me? That kid was so scared he would have done anything. He knew something, something that would have gotten him killed, and decided he wanted to end it himself, without the torture that he was likely to endure. Now, this has something to do with your establishment, so you can help me, or you can let that boy die for nothing!" I could tell from her startled look that she wasn't expecting such ferocity, and I smiled. Mac gave me a quick glance.

"Yes, well, uhm, Ralph worked as a cleaner here, but he offered to fill in one day when we had an important customer and their usual was off sick. The customer was so pleased that they asked for Ralph again. He was more than willing. He still worked mainly as a cleaner, but he allowed his details to be placed on the website and he's been hired occasionally since. And he is-was-eighteen, may I add, so it's completely legal."

I ignored that end remark and continued. "Can you tell us who hired him?" I asked, though I knew it was a long shot.

"I'm sorry, but I can't, client confidentiality and all that." Madame Sophie smirked.

"Well, can you at least give me a hint if the names John Harris-Claude, Heidi Holliday or Donald Wascoe ring a bell?" I asked again. At Heidi's name her head perked up a little, though she quickly pretended that it had no effect. I wasn't going to let her escape that easily. "So Heidi Holliday, that name seems familiar, huh? Because, you see, I'm working for Miss Holliday in locating a missing item, and I need to check everyone who may have been at the house that day." Mac hid a smile, knowing my plan. Quick thinking.

Madame Sophie turned to her computer, and typed on the keyboard. She faced me, giving me a measured look, before clearing her throat. "Miss Holliday rented him for an hour at her home just a month ago." She said, then rattled off a date. It matched the date I'd gotten from John Harris-Claude, as did the time. 5.30-6.30pm. Now it was my turn to smirk. "Thank you, Madame Sophie. If you have any extra information, please, don't hesitate to contact me" I said, handing her my business card. Mac tried to hide her giggle.

Lena returned, escorted to the front door, and said goodbye as a sweaty man in a suit waited at the front desk. Mac and I walked around the corner to the car, ready to drive home.


	15. Chapter Fifteen: A Country

The woman glided gracefully through the airport, black boots clicking along the floor underneath her cream coat. She stepped out onto the road, and signalled a taxi.

Sitting in the back seat of the sleek black car, the woman pressed the mobile phone to her ear. "Damn it Donny, this call is costing me a fortune! Answer your damn phone!"

She handed the driver his money, stepping out and adjusting her sunglasses. She stopped at a newspaper stand to buy a copy of the Times. "Willkommen to Zurich, Madam" said the proprietor. The woman smiled.


	16. Chapter Sixteen: A Twist

"Veronica Mars?"

"This is she."

"It's Tony Perreli, from the records department?"

"Tony! How glad am I to hear from you. Its been a while."

"Really, Veronica? Its been three days. Some of Miss Holliday's stuff is kept under lock and key."

"Interesting." Three days ago, when my suspicions around Heidi Holliday were first aroused, I did the regular background check I was able to. No such luck. Her records were buried deep, for some reason, and that reason intrigued me. I was also sure it had something to do the case. So I decided to call in an old favour, and as luck would have it, this favour seemed to be paying off. "What you got for me Tony? Something juicy?" I asked. I heard Tony Perreli laugh on the other side of the phone.

"Veronica Mars, what have you got yourself into?"

"I'm beginning to ask myself the same question Tony. So?"

"So, you might want to get a pen and paper handy, because I've got some very interesting infromation to tell you."

* * *

"What the heck am I watching?" I asked my dad, as I stuffed popcorn in my mouth as I sit down next to him on the couch.

"It's called Sharknado, and its hilarious" he replied. I turned to face him, and saw the mad grin spreading across his face.

"Ha ha ha, so funny" I laugh, shaking my head.

"Actually I was just channel-hopping until Field of Dreams is on. Now that's a great movie" he tells me. I laugh again. It's nice to sit down with my dad and watch a movie. Living in New York, I was pushing Neptune away. I hadn't realised that I was also pushing my dad away. He always jokes about he had to get hit by a car to get me to come back, but I don't laugh. I was cruel to him, rarely visiting, and if there's anything I've learned from Logan's time away, it's that phone calls and video chats aren't enough. Luckily, Logan comes back often enough. I can't say I did the same with my dad. I glance across at his beaming face. I'm happy he's here, and I wish it hadn't taken me so long to realise that. Home isn't a place, its the people. And my home couldn't exist without my dad. And Logan. And Mac, and Wallace, sometimes even Dick. And, without the baby, I guess. "So, are you going to tell me what's going on with you at the moment or do I have to tickle it out of you"

I'm slightly confused. "What do you mean?"

"Veronica, I'm your father, I know when something's up. and as long as you live under my roof, you live by my rules. Which means talking to me." He gives me a rather pointed look, and I shuffle awkwardly further down the couch. Should I tell him? About the baby?

No, I decide. I want to tell Logan first. Now I've got to think fast, because he's not going to let me leave this house ever again if I don't give him something. "Uh, okay, well, it kinda relates to that but, well, before Logan left, we were... thinking of moving in together."

"In his beach house?" dad asks, looking rather perplexed.

"No, we were thinking of buying our own place! Somewhere we could live for the rest of our foreseeable future together." I say, rambling.

He brow furrows as his face darkens and he takes hold off my hands. "Veronica, are you sure about this? I mean, I know you love Logan but I still worry about that boy"

"Man, dad. He's a man. And I'm a woman. We're adults. This time-"

"-This time, I know, your ready. It's different. But you have to see things from my point of view, Veronica. Every time you got back together, It's always, we're ready this time. Things will be different this time. A person can only say that so many times."

"I know, I know, but really, it is different this time, and I know what you're thinking, but just here me out, all right? Before, we were just kids, not ready for a proper relationship. We'd both lost our mothers, we'd both lost Lily. Logan had some anger issues. As much as I hate to admit it, I had trust issues. But we've grown since then, dad. We're adults. We've spent time apart, had real relationships. This time, it feels right. He makes me so happy-"

"I know I know, its just-"

"Just what?" I ask, temperamental. Okay, maybe I'm being a little harsh, but I'm tired of people second-guessing our relationship. Especially as we have already done that ourselves. Every time.

"I've just got you back. You spent all that time in the New York."

My voice softens. "Oh dad, I'm not going anywhere just yet. Not until Logan gets back. I'm mean, I'm hoping that within a year, y'know, we'll be in our own place but I'll still see you all the time"

He stops to consider this, me, his daughter leaving the nest but still near to see him every week. "Your sure about this?" he asks, looking into my eyes. I nod.

"Absolutely." I smile.

He adjusts the pillows on the couch, and takes a sip from his coffee. "Well, then I'm happy for you. Now, is there anything else bothering you, a certain case perhaps?"

"I see you've been talking to Mac."

"Yes, she filled me in on all the details. I have to say, I'm little worried about you sweetheart," he says, giving me a squeeze. I shrug his concern off.

"I'm fine, really, in fact, I'm great!" I beam, perhaps a little too happily.

"Great?" he asks. unsure. I decide to tell him the case news, though I'm sure Mac will scold me for not telling her first.

"Well, a friend of a friend got me some records of Miss Holliday, and I've learned some new information from that I need to follow up, _but_ , if I'm correct, then I think this case is going to be closed pretty soon. Although, I don't know if I'm going to get paid, if what I think is going on _is_ going on." I say. Thinking about it now, I may have to try and gleam that money from 'Heidi Holliday' now, otherwise the only person who can pay me is John Harris-Claude; and I really don't feel like begging to that poor man for money. Especially if I'm right about his so-called fiancée.

"Okay, Veronica. Start from the beginning. Please, don't spare any details, though Field of Dreams starts in twenty minutes." he laughs.

* * *

Mac's eyes are wide open with alarm, her hands running through her cropped hair unsteadily. She paces the office floor. I get up, and start making some coffee for her. That usually pulls her to her senses. And I'm going to need those senses to figure out the next step.

She gratefully takes the steaming cup from my hands, lips quivering, as she drinks the dark, bitter liquid. How I'll miss you coffee. But the mere smell is sending waves of nausea over me, so its better if I stay away.

After another ten minutes, Mac has stopped pacing, and was now biting her nails. I was on the internet, looking at baby booties. So small, so cute! Mac suddenly walked over to my desk and planted her hands on the wooden surface.

"So, let me get this straight. _Twins_?"


	17. Chapter Seventeen: A Prize

The woman left UBS headquarters in Zurich, and made her way to the taxi rank. She had a large, black leather briefcase in her hand and a smile on her face. She would collect the rest later.

The woman stopped at a café for coffee and cake, and opened up her email account. She typed 'Stage Three completed. Arriving home tomorrow. Start Stage Four.'

The woman headed to the Leonardo Boutique hotel, where she had booked a room for the night. Lying naked on the silken bed sheets, she opened the briefcase and flung the contents around her.

If anyone had been watching the security camera's at that time, they would have been shocked to see her rolling around in money.

$20 million, to be exact.


	18. Chapter Eighteen: A Visit

Mac and I were sitting at our desk's, drinking herbal tea when my phone bleeped. I looked down at the screen. "Damn it!" I cursed.

"What?" Mac asked

"I just got an email from Logan. He has to cancel our Skype date we had planned for tomorrow. I was going to tell him about the baby!"

"Well damn, now you have another excuse not to tell him!" Mac said sarcastically. I gave her a pointed look.

"I wanted to tell him. I had this speech all prepared in my head, how I know we hadn't been together that long but that I loved him and I knew that this was the best thing to happen to our relationship. It was going to be emotional, though-provoking, it was going to be... well, epic. But now its ruined. Now I'm gonna be a bag of nerves till I next speak to him. And I really don't need that right now, not with this crazy case." I say, putting my phone down on the table.

"Speaking of the case, can we get back to that please? Because things are getting weirder and weirder, and if they get any weirder, I'm going to start drinking vodka instead of tea." Mac said, a hint of humour in her eyes. I laughed.

"Okay, okay, we'll get back to the situation at hand. First things first, have you been able to verify what we've got so far?"

"Yes. I found that picture you were looking for, and Tony faxed the documents over this morning. So, are we going to the, dare I say it, sheriff's department?" she asked. I didn't want to, Lamb had already made an enquiry once John Harris-Claude reappeared. He knew we were investigating, and he wanted in. We had to tell Lamb, and John, the truth. Besides, we might need so heavy lifting doing, and as I pregnant woman, I am more than happy to put Lamb in the firing line. "I suppose so. Though I think it should be you he talks to, he might think I'm lying and we need to get him to the hospital with Mr Harris-Claude."

"Sounds like a plan." Mac said, finishing her tea. I quickly typed a reply to Logan, rescheduling our date, then grabbed my jacket and purse and headed out the door.

* * *

We were all sitting comfortably round the bed of John Harris-Claude, who looked much better today. Or, at least, healthier. He is eyes were filled with sorrow.

"Is everybody ready?" I asked, looking around the odd collection of people. Mac and I, of course, were by John's bedside. His doctor was here, to check that the shocking news didn't, I don't know, cause him a some sort of heart attack. Sheriff Lamb, unfortunately, was there, drinking really strong coffee and smirking at Mac, who appeared even more disgusted by him than I was by the coffee smell.

"First things first, Mr Harris-Claude, that wasn't your fiancée who cheated on you."

"It wasn't?" he asked, obviously confused.

"Don't worry, I'm going to explain it all now. It was her twin sister, Evita Salamanca. Now-"

"Hold up, hold up." Mac said, putting her hand in the air. She started clicking around on her laptop and gasped.

"What?" I asked, irritated.

"$100 million was withdrawn from John Harris-Claude's Swiss bank account several days ago." Mac said, running her hands through her hair.

"Several days ago?" I asked.

"Swiss banking is difficult, Veronica. When you asked me to put a tap on his bank accounts, it wasn't easy. I'm just getting the information now." Mac replied worriedly. I turned to face John Harris-Claude, his face ashen. "So, its done." He said, rubbing his hands together.

"What's done?" asked Lamb, finally deciding to be productive instead of looking unconcerned whilst making me nauseous with his coffee. Though, to be honest, he didn't need the coffee to do that.

"The man and the woman. Who kidnapped me. They kept asking for my bank information. I told them no. But then they... they showed me this picture, of Heidi. She was bruised all over, and she was tied up to a wall. They said, If I didn't give them the information, then they'd kill her. So, I... I..." the man started sobbing into his hands. He still loved her, after everything he thought she had done. And he had given the man and woman $100 million. That must have been the morning we found John. Lucky we got there soon, or he'd be dead now.

"Lamb, can you put an APB out on Heidi Holliday? We need to find her!"

"But I though you said she didn't do it?"

"Yes, but Evita Salamanca is pretending to be her sister, which is easy because they're identical twins. No one knows who Evita is. Ergo, you are looking for 'Heidi Holliday." I said, annoyed. What a moron. I turned to Mac. "Can you find out who withdrew the money out? Give them a picture of Heidi Holliday, see if it matches their description."

"Does this mean I get to go to Switzerland?" Mac asked excited.

"No Mac, its not in the budget. Unfortunately, we're not all billionaires." I replied.

"I'm a billionaire." John Harris-Claude offered, weakly.

"For the time being buddy, but you might want to save up, considering $100 million just got taken out of your account." I said. I turned back to Mac. "Have you been tracking Donny Wascoe?". She sighed.

"I would, if he was doing anything. I'm starting to think he's got a card under an assumed name, but, I don't even know where to begin looking for something like that. We have to focus on Heidi Holliday, its the only lead with a paper trail."

Now I was stumped. Until we got some more information of Evita/Heidi, we couldn't do much. We couldn't find the real Heidi. "Excuse, Ms Mars," John Harris-Claude said. I looked up into his sad eyes. "But, if it was this Evita woman who cheated, then where is my Heidi?" he pleaded. I shook my head sadly.

"I wish I knew, Mr Harris-Claude. I do have an idea about what happened though. I think she went away for some reason, and that's why Evita was able to pretend to be her. But she came back early, and that fight you had, with the shoes, was with the real Heidi,"

"Oh my-" he said, bursting into tears.

"Yes, well, I think Evita/Heidi came back and kidnapped both of you, and that's how she got the bruised picture of Heidi to show you." I finished.

"But why would she kidnap the real Heidi?" Mac asked. This part I hadn''t told her yet. Once the money got stolen, however, it all became clear.

"Because she's going to frame her for the crime. And that means she needs her alive."


	19. Chapter Nineteen: A Temptation

"Please. Somebody help me!"

She had been crying all night. The moment the door opened and she saw him, the man with the crocodile eyes.

Eyes that could eat you up.

"Don't worry darlin'. Everything is gonna be alright. Not for you, of course. But for me? I'm swell." He whispered in her ear, his hot breath wet and sour on her neck. She could sense his Cheshire cat smile through the darkness.

Then he left, leaving the door open slightly.

He knew what he was doing. No one was there to help her.

But the temptation was too much.

"Hello? Is anyone there?"


	20. Chapter Twenty: A Plan

Mac was tapping her fingers impatiently on Sheriff Lamb's desk. I groaned in despair, having never liked the odorous office before. But since big brother had taken over, the place was now filled with coffee fumes and disgusting stains of a questionable nature. I took the seat behind the broad, oak desk and waited. The clock on the wall announced the time. It was 10:24am.

The door opened, and Lamb seemed almost shocked at mine and Mac's presence. He shook his head, quickly recovering. "I thought we agreed 10:30?" he questioned, setting down his coffee and cream donut. I fought the urge to barf. "Oooh, five minutes early. Big deal." Mac quipped sarcastically. She opened up her MacBook, wiped her brow, then began typing away furiously.

"So, what do you have?" I asked, hoping to clear the tension in the room. Lamb raised an eyebrow and, when I didn't move, preceded to pace the room, clearing his throat.

"First things first Mars. The FBI were at the hospital earlier, questioning Harris-Claude. It seems kidnapping is a federal crime. I, however, told them about the case at hand and they seemed content for you, and the sheriffs department, to carry on. Provided that they stay on in the background, conducting their own investigation."

"The FBI?" Mac asked, briefly looking up from her computer.

"Yes. But, as I mentioned, that's been taken care of. Now, to the juicy bit. I found the shoes."

"You did?" Mac and I gasped simultaneously. Lamb smirked, then continued.

"Or rather, one of my officer's did. They were in a pawn shop, just got their yesterday. Traced them back to some garbage men, who found them whilst they were emptying bins. Records show that part of their work route is Charleston, where Mr Harris-Claude lives. So, someone, it seems, chucked them out. Forensics are with them, but from they told me on the way in this morning, I think we might finally have a reason for you getting involved in the first place."

"Yeah, I was thinking that actually," Mac said, taking a sip of her own coffee. "I mean, why get you involved looking for some shoes, when all she wants is his money?"

"Well," Lamb began, "I have an answer for that. See, the house has been cleaned up, I guess to make everything appear normal. But the shoes contain traces of blood coming from _two_ different sources."

"John's and Heidi's! Of course!" I exclaimed. The puzzle pieces were starting to fit together. "If Evita and Donald wanted to frame Heidi, they knew that she would clean up the house whilst he was locked up, so as not to arise suspicion. But in doing so, they washed away a lot of evidence of their big fight, or that Evita and Donald were even there. But to frame Heidi, they needed the one piece of evidence they hadn't touched, the one piece of evidence Heidi must have thrown away when she saw what she did. The murder weapon. The shoes."

I sat back in wonder, amazed at the situation. If only Heidi hadn't been smart enough to throw the shoes away, Evita would never have called me. John would most likely be dead, with the real Heidi locked behind bars. Heidi Holliday, what a surprise.

"So, what kind of info do you guys have?" Lamb asked, opening the mini fridge beside his disk and pulling at a cold slice of pizza on a paper plate. Gross.

"Well, my man Tony Perreli informed of some... special circumstances, regarding the twins."

"What kind of special circumstances?" He asked, almost bored. I snapped my fingers to wake him, and stop both him and Mac drooling over the cold pizza.

"Evita and Luciana Salamanca, born 21st January 1988 to sixteen year old Spanish immigrant Juliana Salamanca in West Graves, California. Put up for adoption that very day, no one has heard from Juliana ever since. Now, it's not known who the father of the girls are, but rumour has it that the Salamanca's were working for a wealthy Californian family known as the Davidson-Byrd's, who own some kind of automobile empire. That's not important though. What is, is that the family were under threat from Mafia from 1985 till 1990. During this time, they hired ex Säpo member Anders Lindqvist."

"Wait a sec, what exactly is Säpo?" Lamb asked. I turned my head to Mac, who had been refining all the details since three this morning.

"The Swedish Security Service. They have changed the name and details I few times since it first started in about 1918 but the principal remains the same. Their the Swedish version of the CIA." Mac responded, handing back to me. I sighed, tired with all the drama.

"Point is, Lindqvist is the name on Evita's adoption papers. Heidi - or Luciana, as she was known then - was in the neonatal unit due to an infection, and so Lindqvist, probably believing that her days were numbered, took off with only one baby. Heidi got better and was adopted by the Holliday's, a Californian couple who renamed her. So that's Heidi's story. Evita's, however, is a lot more interesting." I paused, and grabbed a bottle of water out my bag. Recounting the events of Heidi and Evita's lives made me... sad. Depressed. Melancholy. They hadn't even had a chance from the beginning, being separated like that. I felt a weight pile on my shoulders, and I knew. I had to tell Logan. Soon. I had to tell that I loved, that I wanted us to move in, get married, and raise children; and keep them safe. Safer than Evita. Safer than Ralph Maccio. Safer than Lilly.

I looked up to see all eyes on me, so I continued. "Tony had trouble with some of the records being kept under lock and key. But, it seems that Lindqvist returned to Sweden and raised Evita there, until 1996, when he and his partner-in-crime Dominik Teller were arrested for manslaughter. They were both released five years later, but by this point Evita had been relocated to the US where Lindqvist's sister was living. Now, the sister, Annika, was a foster parent, and one of the children she fostered after his dad left town was..."

"Donald 'Donny' Wascoe, I presume?" Lamb finished. I nodded.

"This is were they met, fell in love, yada yada yada. Of course, we don't know who suggested what, but at some point, Lindqvist, Teller, Evita or Donny found out about Heidi and set the plan in motion. Mac found Teller's phone number and has traced calls coming from here, in Neptune, during the time Evita was masquerading as Heidi, so we assume that they're all involved." I ended here, not sure where to go next. Lamb took a sip of coffee, then looked straight at me.

"So where is the real Heidi Holliday? And how do we catch Evita and Donny in the act?"

I shrugged my shoulders as the plan formed in my mind. Finally, an idea.

"We bait them."


	21. Chapter Twenty One: A Call

Lindqvist grabbed the phone from Teller, and quickly answered "Damn it Evita, you had us worried!"

"They're on to us pappa. That bitch private eye-"

"What did I tell you älskling? Don't get anyone else involved. And what do you do? You call Donny, oh Donny; the great dumbom."

"Oh please pappa, don't be mad. I had to get the shoes, they had DNA evidence."

"Well, they're long gone now. But the PI is still on to us. You will have do something about it."

"Like what?"

"The Mars woman, she... she needs to be taken care of."

He put the phone down.


	22. Chapter Twenty Two: A Shot

"I worry about you, Veronica. You can't live like this, you'll give me a heart-attack." Dad said. I could hear him pacing over the phone.

I pulled into the parking lot, and took the keys out of the ignition. "Dad, please don't worry. After this, I won't be taking on too many cases for a while." I replied.

"What exactly does that mean?" he asked, obviously concerned. I struggled to hide a smile and cleared my throat.

"I'll explain it to you later. But for now, I have to finish this case. I have to find Heidi." I responded, hoping he would leave it at that.

"Okay, I'm get the message, you want me to go. Okay. Bye, I love you."

"Bye Dad. I lo-"

I'm about to say I love you too, about to wish him goodbye, when the bullet shatters the window screen.

"Veronica?"

"Veronica?"

"Veronica!"

* * *

Where the heck are you, Veronica?

I didn't even like this stupid plan. Using her as bait, in her condition. But would she listen? Of course not. Too stubborn.

Hurry, V.

I'm watching the camera's from the comfort of a van parked just down the road, near an empty industrial estate.

The diner is surrounded, men perched on rooftops and hidden behind trash cans.

Veronica called 'Heidi' two hours ago with the information. Arranged a time and place to meet. She even bought the stupid shoes.

But she's not here.

"Hey Mac, you see any sign of her?" Lamb buzzes through my earpiece. I scan the four camera's and see nothing. "Perhaps she parked her car in one of the corner's of the parking lot. I told you, these bastard camera's don't reach everywhere." I tell him.

I'm hoping this is the case.

The coffee beside me has gone cold from waiting, but I take a sip anyway.

Where is she?

God, that coffee tasted awful.

"Hey, I've got something!" Someone yells over my earpiece. I see four officer's moving in the corner of my screen, and zoom in.

"What have you got?" I ask, but by now they're off screen, weapons drawn.

"There's a car with bullet hole in windscreen!" I hear.

Calm down Mac, I tell myself. It could be-

An officer rattles of the number plate, and it matches Veronica's car.

"VERONICA!"

By now I'm out of the van, down the road, and running towards the car; tears streaming down my face. "Is she dead? Is she DEAD?" I plead, but no one answers. The car door is open, her mobile is on the seat, and splash of blood decorates the head rest.

There is no sign of Veronica.

* * *

Her body is surprisingly light, and we carry her with ease. We put her in the trunk of the car, wrapped in blankets.

My phone rings.

"So? Is it all going to plan?" Pappa asks.

I glance at the gun tossed on the back seat.

"Not exactly."

* * *

Wet and damp.

Mould.

The smell of decay.

I feel the cloth bag pulled from my head, and try to open my eyes, but the darkness persists. Beside me, something emits a shadow of warmth, and I turn my head to the left. My head aches, and a drop of blood falls down the side of my face.

Now I begin to remember.

The bullet scraped my head. Nothing serious. But then the hands, strong and male, dragging me out the car. The butt of a gun hitting my head and then...

Here.

"Hel... help... me" A voice moans. I try turning more, but my hands and feet are tied down to the chair.

"Hello? What's your name?" I ask, trying to keep them awake. I do not want to be stuck in the dark by myself.

"He.."

"Help? Is that what you're trying to say?"

"Heidi."

Gasping, I try to reach for her. Thank god, she's still alive. "Heidi, my name is Veronica, I'm a private investigator. There are people looking for you. For both of us. Your fiancee, John, he's okay, he loves and misses you." I say, anything to cheer her hopes up. The urge to talk to Logan grows inside me. If only I could tell him the same. "Heidi, you have to stay awake, so I can get us both out of here. Heidi, please, stay-"

A door opens, allowing a sliver of light in. I see her now, huddled on the floor, a mess of chocolate brown hair, blood and bruises.

"Hi there girls." Someone says. A light bulb flickers on, and I see him. Donald Wascoe.

Walking around the dingy subterranean chamber, he comes to a stop in front of me, and kneels. His smile is like the Cheshire cat. Donny takes of his glasses, and I notice his eyes. Deep green, irises dilated, almost beautiful. _Almost_. He reaches out a hand, and strokes my cheek. I pull away, but the quick movement springs new pain from my head wound.

"Don't worry girls. It will all be over soon."


	23. Chapter Twenty Three: A Betrayal

The small beach front property is nearly empty. Bags packed. Money hidden for transfer.

Teller sits at a table on the balcony, eating an apple. He gazes out across the water.

"How do you think it's going? Do you think it is well?" asked Lindqvist, who is pacing behind him.

"No. If it had, they would have called us already. Right now they're just trying to get the story straight." Teller replies. He takes another bite.

"Then why the hell are you so calm? Evita could be in trouble!" Lindqvist yells, upset.

Teller turns to look at him. "Oh, don't be serious Anders. You and I both know, its time to drop the dead weight."

"MY DAUGHTER IS NOT DEAD WEIGHT!"

"Oh ya, and what about your other one?" Teller asks snidely.

Lindqvist seems to consider this, and calms down. He takes a swig of cognac from the glass on the table.

"Anders, you and I are the experts. They are just children. We have the money. The PI is on to them. We should cut loose while we still can." Teller reiterates.

Linqvist tilts his head slightly to the side. He drinks.

"You know what we have to do if they mess up." Teller speaks. He chucks the apple core over the balcony.

The glass now empty, Lindqvist takes it inside for a refill.

"You know I'm right Anders." He shouts from the balcony.

Lindqvist continues to think.


	24. Chapter Twenty Four: A Picture

The bedroom is painted blue and lilac, with a cream coloured carpet. A kingsize bed sits in the middle, dressers on either side open; with clothes spilling out of their open mouths. Dresses, blouses, t-shirts and skirts. Countless boots and shoes litter the floor. The door leading to the en suite is open.

Evita grips hold of the ceramic sink with both hands, and looks up to the mirror. The face she sees is not her own.

"Damn you, damn you!" She yells, crying.

She reaches for some make up wipes, and proceeds to wash her face of all traces of Heidi. A pair of scissors rests precariously on the side of the sink, and Evita grabs them. Dark shards of hair fall down beside the used wipes and false eyelashes. Then comes a silver stud, which inserts back into its rightful place.

A sweet, simple face greets her in the bathroom mirror. Large brown eyes, pointed nose, round lips. Hair cut shoulder length. Eyebrow once again pierced. She begins to feel like herself.

"You mustn't let them tell you what to do, Evita. You are a strong, and powerful women. Don't let them get to you."

"Don't let _her_ get to you."

She smiles a little, tugging at the straps of her top. Her phone rings in her pocket. Its her father.

"Not now Pappa. I can take care of myself." She says, rejecting the call.

Things may not have gone as planned, but she could fix it. Fix everything. He didn't think she could do it. But she could.

She _thought_ she could.

Evita left her bedroom, and went downstairs to the kitchen. She gulped down a glass of water, to steel her nerves. Her bag was open on the counter. She reached inside, looking for the bottle of Prozac, and felt something familiar land within her hands. The picture.

"I should have burnt you years ago." She said, holding it up to the light.

A childish drawing, from the age of seven. Two identical little figures, with brown eyes and hair, holding hands. Her pappa, standing by the side, smiling. Written at the top in crude Swedish 'My Family!'.

Evita smiled at her childishness.

"No wonder Pappa treats me so. I am still a child, believing in happy ever afters." She said.

She tore the picture in half, crying as she did so.


	25. Chapter Twenty Five: A Darkness

Sometimes, there is both the dark and the light.

He sits in a plastic folding chair in front of me, smelling of unripened fruit and bitter alcohol. The flicker of a flame ignites the room; filling it with a warm glow for a brief moment. Then he closes the cap on his lighter, having lit his cigarette. He blows smoke in my face, removing his sunglasses to wipe his eyes. "Do you remember me, Veronica Mars? Cuz I remember you. I don't think much about those times, I was too high for anything to penetrate that fog in my brain. But I do remember _you_. Who could forget?" He laughs, his voice rough like sandpaper; and filled with nostalgia.

Honestly? I don't remember much of Donny, other than the ninja incident. Corny's just about the only major stoner I hung around with. Normally I'd come up with some quip, get on his nerves and most likely get a punch in the face. But I've got another life to think about now, so I sit quietly. He gets up and crouches beside Heidi, whispering menacingly and stroking her hair. She whimpers in response. "Sweet, sweet Heidi. Don't you worry. Soon, this will all be over." He tightens his grip on the gun tucked into his pants, taking it out and holding it gently; as he resists killing her there and then.

I try slipping my hands through the ropes, or getting my fingers to the knots, but it's no use. Despite my small size, I cannot slip through. I try with my feet but Donny, still on the floor, notices. He looks up, a bemused look on his face; and turns to me. "And what makes you think your getting out of these?" He questions, gesturing with his gun towards the ropes, before putting it back in his pants. His hand runs up my leg. "I heard all sorts of things about you in school, Veronica Mars. Things that a bored boy like myself would think about, all alone, in the middle of the night. Quite the reputation." Donny smirks, the spittle on his teeth gleaming in the dim light of the room. I try hard not to vomit.

A burst of light suddenly streams through the room, showing a small staircase I didn't notice before. So, underground. Basement, maybe? A woman's legs appear on the steps, and it's Evita, dressed all in black. Once the door is shut, darkness fills the room again, and Evita stands at the bottom of the stairs; looking at me. Make up no longer adorns her face, her hair has been cut shorter, a piercing in her eyebrow shines faintly. Despite this, she still looks remarkably like Heidi. Speaking of Heidi, she seems to be conscious enough that she knows another person has entered the room, as she turns her head slightly. A big purple bruise covers half her face, and my heart shatters. Evita glances her way for a second, before focusing on me. She gulps, nervous. Heidi whimpers, and Evita flinches.

She doesn't want to hurt her. She cares.

 _I try to imagine Evita's life, the lack of structure and love. Discovering that I have sister, a twin, someone who looks exactly like me. Then I'm told that she has a perfect life, a life I could have had, and so we must take it away. I can't even get to know her, to learn if she is a good person, if we will bond. Maybe she will be the best friend I never had. But I can't. My father tells me that we have to ruin her, so that we can be happy. I have no choice._

I don't think that Evita wanted to do this. Not all of it. Sure, pretending to be her sister, living the high life, and getting money. But hurting her? There is just something in her eyes, and suddenly, I can't help but feel a little sorry for her.

The sound of coughing distracts me from my thoughts, and I manage to turn my head slightly. Its Heidi. A pool of fresh blood surrounds her, and there is more on her lips. Tears run down her swollen eye, and more blood comes up. This darker, almost black in the vacant light of the room. Her body begins to convulse. "Help her! She needs help! She's going to die!" I yell, hoping they'll take notice. Evita turns, concern on her simple face, but steals herself and walks to the side, into the shadows. There are sounds, something is going to. Then she reappears, first aid kit in her hand, and throws it at Donny. "Help her." She says, in a stilted accent. The real Evita speaking. Then she grabs a knife from her back pocket and puts it to my face. "You leave me no choice, Veronica Mars. You should have just found the shoes. Dumb bitch, can't even find shoes." She spits at me, and for a moment all I want to do is head-butt her. But I have to think reasonably, so I just sit back and take it. There's no way she's getting the better of me.

"Errr, Evita? I think we have a problem." Donny whines, as he tilts Heidi's head back with one hand whilst rattling about in the sparse first aid kit. "I think we need to take her to a hospital."

"Don't be stupid! We can't take her there yet, we're not ready!"

"Well, we can't let her die! Whose going to take the fall for all of this?"

At this, Evita sums up the courage to look at her sister. I try to look myself but the aching of my head echoes around my skull, and I almost pass out trying to move my body. No one pays attention though. They are too busy looking at Heidi. Evita takes a phone out of pocket, and hands it to Donny, before taking his gun and aiming it at me. "Call pappa. He will know what to do." She tells him, pulling back the safety. I think of Logan.

The phone rings. A man answers. Lindqvist.

"We've got a problem here." Donny says. He runs his hands through his hair yet again, as he begins pacing the room. Evita is staring at me, gun pointed at my head. Heidi cries out, blood dripping everywhere. I can see Evita flinching, trying hard to ignore her. "She's not dead okay! What more can I tell you. I missed the shot, we took her to Heidi, we-" Donny is suddenly interrupted by a wave of profanity that even I can hear from the phone.

"Listen, Lindq-" Donny starts, before being interrupted again. His face heats up in anger. Eventually, sick and tired of the abuse, he screams. "That's not even the main problem man! Heidi's dying!"

There is silence.

I hear mumbling again, but cannot make anything out, as Donny looks at me, before walking slightly away. He whispers in cahoots, occasionally looking at me. They are planning something. I think of my Dad.

The phone snaps shut, and Donny walks back over. He whispers in Evita's ear. I think of Mac, Wallace and Weevil.

Finished in their discussion, Donny goes back to Heidi, and starts to lift her. Evita trains the gun on me. "We are going to kill you." She says. I think of my baby.

"Once you are dead, we will drop her off at a hospital, and then we will leave with the money. I would say that I am sorry to do this, but... I'm not." She looks at me with her deep brown eyes.

I never feared death. Not until Aaron Echolls tried to set me on fire. After that, well, I never felt like I was putting myself in that much danger. It was all for a greater cause, after all. But now I'm scared. I don't think that's its weak to start crying, and I do. My emotions burst forth like a broken damn, drowning my thoughts.

I don't want to die.

I really don't want to die.

"Will you stop with the blubbering, it gives me a headache." Evita yells.

"I can't!" I yell, and the crying continues. I know I should be strong, but I... I can't. I'm so afraid.

"Why? Why can't you stop?" Donny asks.

"Because I'm pregnant!" I say. And I cry again.

Evita's face falls, and her eyes become downcast. She looks up at me, with sadness and longing, then drops the gun to the floor. She begins untying the knots.

"Evita, what are you doing?" he questions angrily, dropping Heidi back on the floor and pulling her away. She hits him in return, then continues with the rope.

"I can't do it Donny. I ... I can't hurt a child." Evita looks away as she says this, eyes brimming with tears to match my own. I'm still crying, heavy wet tears that spring new pain in my head. But I attempt to help with the untying. I see now, that there is still some good left in her, despite her families corruption. "I am sorry Veronica." She tells me.

"You're ruining everything Evita! Don't make me do something I'll regret!" Donny demands, seething. His face is red, his eyes almost alien in their greenness. He grabs the gun from the floor. "Don't make me do this Evita!".

Evita stops, and turns around slowly, eyes filled with fear and bitter disappointment. "Donny, how could you even consider... I thought you loved me." He puts the gun down and rushes towards her, sobbing. "I'm sorry E. I didn't mean it, I swear. We need the money E. We can't let them go." His hands rest on her shoulders, but she tugs away again, and faces me.

"You don't really love me Donny. You love money. Not me. You should go, escape while you can." She yells, choking down tears. The ties on my left hand are off.

His face contorts with disgust and anger, as he picks up the gun again. Donny is filled with rage, I can see the sweat bead down his face as he yells. "Don't lie Evita! I love you! I always will. I always will!" Tears are streaming down his face, his hands are shaking, as he repeats that last sentence. Over and over again.

"I love you Evita, I always will!"

"I love you Evita, I always will!"

Then he pulls the trigger and kills her.

Sometimes, there is only dark.


	26. Chapter Twenty Six: A Confession

"This fettuccini is great, Mr Mars." Mac announces, stuffing her face with food. He laughs, taking a sip of wine. I pass on the offer of more food.

"So..." he starts, squeezing my hand under the table. I know he wants to talk, but I'm not ready yet.

 _It didn't take them long to find us. We'd been tied up in the basement of Evita's old home. Mac found the address, not long after I'd been kidnapped; and told the sheriffs department. They found Donny cradling her cold, dead body; me trying to carry Heidi. They took us to the hospital, we stayed the night. I might have had a concussion, the doctors said, and in my condition... well I didn't want to argue with them. Or Mac._

The smell of food and coffee sends a wave of nausea over me. I really need to start getting used to that.

 _They let me out today. On my way out, I went to see Heidi. She was in a private room, all cream and beige furniture; and filled to the brim with vases of lilies. John was sitting in a dressing gown, beside her. He was beginning to look like his old self. Almost. His eyes were red and raw from crying, his shoulders hunched over. He wouldn't let go of her hand._

I drink some water, almost choking after Mac pulls one of her faces. We're all laughing, and its like nothing ever happened. Almost.

 _They still haven't caught Lindqvist or Teller. Lamb reckons that, after Donny called them, they must have realised their time was up; and made a run for it. Taking all the money Evita stole from John Harris-Claude. Leaving her, his daughter, and Donny. Guess he never loved, not really. Not when you're a crook and their's $20 million whispering in your ear._

Dad starts telling Mac the recipe, who listens intently, surely going to attempt to make it tomorrow. Then, when it inevitably goes wrong, she will take it in to work for lunch, and force me to taste test.

 _Donny was arrested. First good thing Lamb's been able to accomplish. He's waiting trial, but I hear they have him in locked up in a padded cell. A suicide risk, they said. I don't feel sorry for him though, if I'm honest. Evita, yes, but not Donny. He never had to kill her. But the bastard did it anyway._

Mac looks down at her phone, no doubt waiting for Wallace to text her when he's ready. His latest girlfriend, Erica, dumped yesterday.

 _Whilst I was visiting Heidi, I explained to John about everything. He told me he would pay for Evita's funeral. I asked him to call when they had a date set. I don't imagine many people would attend, and her life's been tragic enough._

"I'm meant to be calling Logan. He left me like, a hundred voicemails. By the way, thanks for telling him I was kidnapped." I say sarcastically, wiping my mouth and leaving the table. Dad sheepishly passes me his empty plate while Mac finishes the rest of the pasta off. Making my way to the kitchen sink, I see the smile on his face disappear. He meant well, I know, but I don't want to upset Logan. I don't need him fussing all over me anymore than he's already going to.

"Gotta run. See you tomorrow." Mac says, mouth still full, as she gets up from the table. She's going out with Wallace tonight to cheer him up. They asked if I wanted to come, but I think Mac knew I couldn't. I have things to do. "Hey, I hope you don't mean for work. You only came out of hospital today." Dad says. Mac smiles, assures him that she won't let me work until next week, then waves goodbye. As she walks out the door, Dad comes into the kitchen and start drying the dishes. "I mean it Veronica. I've not slept since that phone call."

"Please Dad, relax. I think I'll be having nightmares enough for the both of us," I start, though the look on his face shows disbelief. "Promise. No work for a couple of days." My arms reach around for a hug, and he holds me tight. I wonder if this is what I will feel like soon. The thought terrifies me. We do our chores in silence for a few minutes, me washing, him drying. I glance at my watch. Shit. I promised Logan we'd have a proper call at 8pm, and it's 8.03. He's probably hyperventilating into a paper bag by now. "Can you finish? Important Skype call." I ask, drying my hands. He nods.

I take my laptop to my room, and open up Skype. Having already called Logan, I had managed to assure him that everything was fine, that I was still alive. You could hear him crying over the phone.

He answers promptly. "Bobcat, thank god! I know you said you were fine, but still-"

"Logan, calm down, there's something I have to tell you. Something important."

"What, is everything okay?"

"Yes, everything's fine."

"Then what is it?"

Well, here goes.

 _"I'm pregnant."_

* * *

I hope you enjoyed reading this, it was a lot of fun to write. It's been a long journey, but you guys made it all worth it.

Stay tuned for the expectant sequel...

 _Veronica Mars: Midnight for Madame Sophie_

Gx

 **Merry Christmas!**


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